Chapter 44

Power coursed through him. Chris could feel it. It energized him. And this time, since he knew to look for it, he also felt where it came from.

Isobel.

She was the kick-start to his battery, and when he let go of her hand, the energy still simmered within.

So much glorious power.

Madame Laveau faced him. Wearing a more somber outfit, her headscarf a deep midnight blue, her loose gown of the same color but patterned with silver thread.

"You shouldn't have taken us prisoner," he told her, wagging a finger. "That wasn't very nice."

"Wait until I spill your blood when the moon rises," the witch boasted. "You'll like it even less."

He cocked his head. "Do you really think I'm going to allow that to happen?"

"It's just you and the little lady," Laveau remarked. "Whereas, I not only have my magic, I also brought friends." By friends, she meant Guillaume and a crowd of others. So many bodies filling the spaces in between the crypts.